


Favored Servant

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dead Peter, Demon Stiles, M/M, Mostly dialogue but you'll see why, Rewrite on Season 2, Steter Monthly Prompts, hard to get a lot of action scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-01 07:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21437494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: As Peter begins to regain his senses, buried under the Hale house, he meets Demon Stiles. It's sort of love at first sight. Sort of.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 40
Kudos: 470
Collections: The Steter Network





	Favored Servant

It takes Peter a few moments to figure out where he is. He shouldn’t be breathing and when he stops and thinks about it, he isn’t.

Yes, as expected he’s dead.

“So is this what you actually expected? To go bat shit crazy and end up buried under the house? And really what about this, you’re buried under the house? I swear to gods, Peter, your nephew is truly an idiot.”

Peter turns his head and next to him, lying down in the dirt, is Stiles. It had to be Stiles. “What… You’re here, why are you here? How are…”

“Hey, maybe I should explain a few things. I mean, you have time, it’s not like you’re not going anywhere right now, are you?” Stiles grins and shrugs as much as he can, on his back next to Peter under the burnt and rotted floor boards of the former Hale mansion. If they tried, they could both sit up with a minimal amount of scrunching. But for now, Peter understands they’re lying on their backs, next to each other, the way Derek buried him.

“I’m still dead, right?” Peter asks, trying to blink away the fuzziness. It’s time he started his plan; or maybe his plan started without him realizing it.

“Yeah, for now you are. Dead, so dead. But the Worm Moon, right? That’s your plan, that’s why you bit Lydia, right?” Stiles’ grin grows and he nods at Peter, looking pleased. “I knew you were smart – well, I didn’t always, but I figured it out pretty quick. Smart. You’re always the dude with the back-up plan.”

“And you’re… I guess if anyone would be here, I would expect it to be you, but what _are_ you?”

Stiles’ blinks and when his eyes open, they’re black, solid black. He blinks again and they’re back to their normal, warm brown.

“Demon? I wouldn’t have guessed that. I got the spark from you, I had that from the beginning.”

“No shit, you did? See, I kinda thought you did, but it’s hard to tell. You know the routine, ‘does he know, does he know I know, does he know I know he knows?’ It’s exhausting, really.”

Peter thinks back to everything he’s seen from Stiles and this might not be the most unusual. “You could have killed me at any time. And you didn’t.”

“Never! You, my wolfie friend, are _fun_.” He scratches his head and flicks out a hair stuck under his nail, looking like the human Peter remembers.

“So you didn’t ask, Peter, but it’s important you know that I’m a chaos demon. Which come on, Beacon Hills is a great place to be for a demon like me. This place is a shit hole! I’d say it’s a portal to hell, but I personally know that it is not.”

“Chaos demon. Now that you say it, it does kind of make sense.” He licks his lips, tasting blood from the burned skin. “I understand why you’re here in Beacon Hills, but here with me, now? Why?”

Stiles smiles, reaching out to take the blood from Peter’s lip, wiping it on his pants. “You’re taking this really well. And you are everything a chaos demon would ever want, Peter. I think we’ll make a good team.”

“You want to know how I got here, how I became Stiles?” He rolls on his side, using his arm as a pillow. “That’s so sweet of you to ask! Well first of all, you know that Beacon Hills is different, right? I’m guessing you do, what with you being a werewolf and all.”

Peter nods, waiting for Stiles to continue. Demon or not, it’s hard to think of him as anything but the smart, annoying boy who helped set him on fire.

“You don’t hold that against me, do you?” Stiles reaches out, resting his hand on Peter’s chest, on the shirt still covered with dried blood. “You needed to be killed. You were pretty much beyond chaos, dude, you were truly looney tunes crazy.”

“I know. I knew it at the time, but it seemed…”

“Like you were justified? You completely were! And believe me, when we’re both topside, we’ll finish cleaning up whatever needs to be cleaned up.” Stiles rubs his chest, and Peter thinks maybe-maybe he feels a little warmth. “We’ll figure it out, but first things first. Imma tell you a story, Peter.”

“Okay, so like we said, at the risk of being obvious, Beacon Hills is a beacon to all kinds of stuff. People move here and they don’t quite know why, but it calls them, to use romantic shit. So Stiles’ mother had a spark. Peter, it was fucking amazing, strongest I’d seen in forever, and it was, of course, too strong for lil’ baby Stiles, right, cause he was half human. So we all knew that he wasn’t going to make it out of the hospital nursery and we – meaning me and some other demons – we were just hanging around waiting to see who could get ownership of the body and, ta-da! I won!”

Peter thinks a moment before he asks, “Meaning, there’s never been a real Stiles? It’s always been you?”

“Yes, it’s always been me, meaning there’s always been a Stiles, who is me.”

Peter can feel the flash of anger; it’s familiar from Stiles, but now so different, now that he knows. “Of course, I guess I’m not saying it right. If it’s always been you, then you’re…” He sighs because this is never going to work.

Stiles apparently takes pity on him and says, “I’ve been me for a long time, but of course contributions to this version include the times I’m living in and how and where I grew up, so to speak, and all that. I mean, this time I’m middle class white boy in the suburbs of the United States. Couldn’t get much better than this, I mean I can get away with _anything_. Only thing better would be to be a _rich_, white boy.”

Nodding, Peter asks, “Wasn’t it confining growing up though? Did the parents not see anything?” He thinks back to the limited interactions with Stiles’ ‘father’ and doesn’t remember anything looking odd or uncomfortable. The Sheriff seems to know his kid is a pain, but not that he’s a capital-D Demon.

“Oh, the first couple of years were a little boring, sure. Eat, poop, sleep, that’s about all the body could do while I was getting things caught up, you know?” He shakes his head, a fond look on his face. “Man, every time I could piss or poop on them, I did, ‘cause it was literally all I could do. Then I got to where I could show her my eyes, my real eyes – yeah, that was when her fucked up brain really started to go.” He chuckles, continuing, “She had this brain disease thing, I think it was because of her spark actually not having a place to go.” He seems to think for a minute. “I dunno, not really. Maybe if she’d married another magic, she’d have been okay or maybe the baby would have been okay. Who knows, who cares? Anyway, so as she’s getting worse, I was able to poke her a little bit, like do the eye thing or sometimes just start talking to her and telling her about her disease and how she was going to die and how Noah would probably let me die and shit like that.”

“You’re horrible, really truly horrible,” Peter says, both repelled and fascinated. Honestly, even he wouldn’t have done something like that. Probably. “What happened? Noah never noticed?”

“How could he, his wife’s diagnosis meant she’d hallucinate and she’s telling him the toddler is threatening her? Of course once or twice, I did the eye thing at him, just when he couldn’t quite be sure he’d seen it.”

“And yet overall, you seem no worse than most teenagers. Or you hide it well, I suppose.”

“Hello? Maybe being killed by your nephew made you forget, but I did take Scotty out into the woods on the night that a new alpha werewolf decided he needed to start a pack.”

Time to confess, since it doesn’t seem there’s many secrets from this demon. “I was trying to find you. I could feel your spark – your something, I suppose – and thought I was latched onto your scent. I ended up with the stupidest boy scout on the planet.”

“Of course you did,” Stiles laughs, punching Peter’s arm, before soothing it a second later. “I made sure he was wearing my hoodie and it was probably nice and ripe. I figured it would draw you towards us and towards him.”

“Did you know he’d be such a pain in the ass to me?”

“Not exactly sure how, but I knew it would be fun to watch.” Stiles chuckles and says, “My boy Scott is just a moron, Peter. I swear I don’t know how he stays alive, the boy is dumber than a box of rocks. He may be the only person dumber than Derek.” He shakes his head, rolling over to his stomach. “Oh, speaking of, let’s cut to the chase, so to speak. You’re coming back topside at the worm moon, right? That’s all going according to plan? Things set, can I help?”

“Things are progressing, slowly, but they’ll pick up speed shortly. Lydia’s bite took, that’s the most important thing.” Peter thinks for a moment and says, “Well, that’s important and she’s starting to think she’s crazy. Sorry, but that’s a good thing.”

“Can I ask about the plan? I have a general idea, of course.”

“Fairly easy, actually. First, adult Peter terrorizes her. Young Peter offers comfort. And then I get to come in again and close the deal.” He can’t help but smile, even though it still hurts his face, new burns on top of the barely healed old. “I really don’t think she’ll put up too much of a fight. Between Jackson and her time running around lost and my plans… she’ll play her role fine.”

“Hmm, yes, she’s much more fragile than she was a year ago. But, I will say, she seems willing use her brains finally.”

“She played dumb a lot, I believe?” Peter asks, shaking his head. “So much potential and so far, not well used.”

“Jackson never liked smart girls, certainly not one smarter than he is.” Stiles turns and studies Peter carefully. But there’s still a bit of glee, he can’t hide. “You know he’s your son, right? Child born from a one night stand.”

“What?” Peter sits up, cringing as his burned flesh rips. “I have a child? Living in Beacon Hills? That’s impossible, that’s…”

“Yeah, your sister was a real bitch, sorry, have to say that. You got a girl preggers, she died in a car accident and Jackson – he was born after she died. And I had nothing to do with any of that, I would love to take the credit, but that one wasn’t on me. And Talia stole your memories of said baby-mama and her telling you she’s pregnant and all that stuff.” Stiles sits up, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, pushing him bad down. “Anyhoo, when you get out of here we’ll get him in the pack if you want. Or kill him, I’m good either way.” He moves closer, resting his hand on Peter’s chest. “Did I mention that he’s a giant lizard? Derek bit him, it didn’t take and he turned into a mother-fucking lizard!”

“There’s a Kanima?” He’s so startled, he doesn’t even mention the hand on his chest, which is kind of nice, especially after being dead for so long. He doesn’t let himself think of the touches before that. “I have a son and he was bitten by a werewolf and instead he turned into a Kanima?”

“Yup. So we might need to kill him, if we could figure out how to.”

“Do you know who’s controlling him? Kanimas need a master.”

Stiles smiles and brushes a hand through Peter’s dirty hair. “I cannot wait until you’re back topside, wolf. I mean, there are wolves up there, but shit, they’re all so stupid. Derek’s bitten, what, four teenagers so far and they’re all stupid and he’s… I know he’s your only relative in town, but Peter, thank gods he’s pretty because he is so fucking stupid.”

“He’s my only relative, period. And no, he’s not the brightest bulb in the pack. Four teenagers? Why on earth…”

“No, your niece Cora, is alive, too. Not sure how exactly, but I think some alpha… Satori maybe? She sent her to South America, with the idea she’d be safer out of the country. But Cora’s coming back, and it would be good if you were alive by then.”

Peter slumps back down in the dirt, scrubbing a hand over his face, grimacing at the blood on his hand. Although it might be a good thing, a sign that his body is getting ready to regenerate. “A son and a niece, both? And Derek has four betas? It’s all happening very fast, not to mention, your little surprise here.”

“Yeah, I know it’s a lot, sweetie, but it’s all going to be okay. I’m going to need to check on things, make sure no one dies before their time – before you get to pick your pack, basically.”

“Wait, I don’t have a pack, I’ll be lucky if Derek’ll keep me around. What do you mean “my” pack?”

Stiles sighs, lying back down next to him. He plants a kiss on Peter’s cheek and says, “Silly wolf. You know this is all worked out, right? I mean, you should be an alpha, I think you could actually have a reasonable pack. You, Derek, Cora, and whichever of the teenagers you want. Erica is a total bitch, you might like her. And I’ll be… your pack human. Your mate.”

“My what?” Peter sits up, looking at Stiles, sprawled out in the damp dirt, appearing as slutty as any man Peter’s seen lying in the dirt. Which, he’ll admit, is more than a few. “You want to be my mate? You’re what? Fifteen years old?”

Stiles bristles and Peter can feel his annoyance, like a tug in his chest; it’s something he hasn’t felt in a while. It feels like a pack bond and it’s not a happy one.

“Well, I don’t remember my exact age, but I do know that I’m at least three-thousand-something years old, so I don’t think you need to be a total jack-ass about it. I know you’ve looked at me; you wanted me, you wanted me in your pack when we were in that garage. Remember that?”

“Yes, of course I’m aware that you’re not the same age as you present,” Peter replies, feeling like he needs to be as careful as he’s ever been. “You present, well, you know, you present young – younger than you are, younger than your body is, perhaps.” He doesn’t want to address if he’s ever thought about Stiles, because honestly, he’s always found the boy interesting and smart. And young, very young. “Perhaps when I’m topside as you call it, you can let your hair grow out a bit?”

“Want something to hold on to?” The demon smirks, eyes still otherworldly black. “You should consider a haircut. I mean, I know the hospital wasn’t very concerned with – anything as far as I can tell, but maybe cut some of those cute curls. They take away from your great bone structure.” His eyes go back to normal, but his teeth look sharper than Peter remembers.

“I was thinking of a goatee. I do look good with facial hair. Plus, it would make me look even older, giving your father-figure even more reason to want to shoot me on sight.” Peter sighs, lying back and shutting his eyes. He’s not even alive and this is exhausting. “I understand that _you’re_ not underage, but your current, um, ride, I suppose is. And since you chose to be the child of a sheriff who owns a gun, and since I’m trying to _not_ be dead…”

“Okay, okay.” Stiles rolls over on his stomach, head cradled in his crossed arms. “Wow, you’re a pain in the ass when you’re alive or dead or in between or all of the above. But I guess you’re looking out for us, so.” He sighs, cupping his cool hand on Peter’s warm face. “We’ll be on the down low, although you know I’m not good at that. We’ll make it work.” He looks at Peter appraisingly then shakes his head. “Good thing I remember what you _used_ to look like because right now, you’re looking a little like Spam. Anyway, I’m thinking I should go. I’ve gotta check in on shit upstairs. You’ve got some things to do?”

Peter shuts his eyes, looking for Lydia. Time to step it up a bit. “Yes, Lydia’s in the girl’s bathroom at school. That’s a fairly unsecure place at the best of times. Think I should go visit.”

Peter opens his eyes when he feels the warm body next to him. It’s nice, the warmth after all the time lying on the cold ground.

“Hey, Peter, how you doing? Getting closer, aren’t we? Which is great, because it is just a shit show up there!”

“Stiles, nice to see you,” Peter says and finds it’s true. The tug in his chest isn’t just the warmth from a body, it feels more like a pack bond than anything he’s felt in years. “Yes, it’s almost time, the full moon is in just a couple of days. And Lydia’s ready, I’m certain of that.”

“Like I said, that’s great. It’s totally insane up there, dude. The Kanima is still running around, just killing everything. Derek’s betas are also out of control, with the moon getting closer they’re getting antsy and do not know the meaning of sublte. Oh, and did I mention the Argents have basically taken over the high school? Yeah, Grampa Argent is around and I think he’s schooling little Alley-cat. Are we killing them all? All the Argents?”

Peter shuts his eyes, tamping down his fury. Rushing never helps with these things; a plan is always needed. “I think we’ll need to kill all the Argents except for Christopher. He’s much softer than his family. But the grandfather, his wife and child, they should all die. Let him be alone to think about why it happened.”

“Me likey,” Stiles says, grinning and tucking himself under Peter’s arm, head resting on Peter’s shoulder. “Dude, I knew I picked the right pack member.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Peter answers absently, more a reflex than anything else. “And why are you saying that at all, three thousand years old, that slang doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“Wow, demanding aren’t you? What do you expect me to do, you have to keep current, it keeps you under the radar. You want a twenty-three skidoo or that’s groovy? Believe me, I know more outdated slang than you’ll know in a lifetime.”

“I suppose so, my apologies. I guess I’m getting anxious. What else is happening?” He turns his head, and takes a gentle sniff of Stiles’ hair. Earthy, with coffee and that magic-spark smell he’s always had. How can Derek not get it?

“Derek’s not the brightest, I’m sorry. Okay, so what else?” Stiles pulls away and sits up, grinning gleefully, eyes shiny black. “Do you know of an alpha pack? Or some guy called…”

“Deucalion,” Peter says, moving a little more upright to talk with the demon. “He’s the apparent leader of a pack of alpha wolves; I’m not quite sure how it works, but I think they recruit, quite forcefully, for alphas to join them. What about him?”

“They’re on their way here. A pack of alphas, we’ll be sure you get at least one of them, okay? Get you back to alpha strength and whichever of Derek’s betas or I guess if there’s any of Deucalion’s pack you want, you can have them.” He gives Peter’s arm an affectionate squeeze. “This Duke guy calls himself The Demon Wolf, and honestly, that offends me. If he goes, I am more than fine with that, pretentious jerk. Thinks he’s a demon when he’s just a prat.”

“Glad to do it and you’re right, he is extremely pretentious. Do you know how many there are now? In his pack?”

Stiles shakes his head. He frowns as he looks away, seeing whatever it is he can see outside. “I think there’s about five. There’s a witch or something following them as well, she’s looking for some kind of revenge. I might want to kill her, see if there’s something I can take from her.”

“Can’t imagine even the most powerful emissary would have anything you lack, but,” he shrugs and continues, “I’ve no problem if you decide to kill someone else.”

“Oh and you know about the Nematon, right? In the preserve? Big ass magic tree?”

Peter nods, remembering his mother and grandmother’s stories about the powerful tree guarding their town and their pack. “I’m told it’s one of the most powerful ones in the country. Capable of great protection or great injury. Has someone upset it?”

“Eh, maybe? Of course it’s just a stump now…”

“What? Someone cut it down?” Peter asks, shocked because this is not how one treats such a powerful diety.

“Your asshole sister,” Stiles says, nodding as Peter rolls his eyes. “Anyway, in addition to that, someone, I think maybe a kitsune stored – get this – someone locked up a Nogitsune and put it in the tree, apparently for safe keeping. I think we’re going to have to let it out.”

“It will demand things. Probably someone to possess.” Peter’s careful to keep his voice neutral; if the demon wants another chaos beast in Beacon Hills, it’s going to happen. Hopefully, he’ll be an alpha by then with a pack to protect each other.

“Oh I know, and I’m thinking maybe Stiles can get a tinge of it, that’ll let him – me, of course – go a little wild. But I’d really like to direct it to little Allison, if possible.” He grins again, looking like a typical (if slightly manic) teenager. “Assuming she’s still alive, it would be awesome if her father had to shoot her or something.”

“That has a certain poetry.” He shuts his eyes, checking on Lydia. She’s fine or as fine as she can be for now.

“Now after you come back, I probably won’t see you for a bit, but if you need anything, just let him know. I’ll know if you need me.”

Peter feels the tug of the pack bond in his chest. It’s more than a simple bond, he doesn’t want to say it, but it’s bondage. He’s locked to this demon.

He tries to feel upset, but he honestly can’t. Here’s someone who seems to know him and wants to be with him. Wants all of him, in all ways possible. Not the worst option he’s had in his life.

Stiles chuckles and leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on Peter’s forehead. “We’ll get there, I was thinking you’re right, you can’t just pop out of the ground and pop my cherry. Some time together, working on problems or whatever. Enemies to friends to lovers, one of my favorite tropes.”

“And keeps me from getting killed by your friends protecting what they assume is your honor. Or your father from shooting me in the face.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Stiles laughs, bright and happy, talking about murder. “I think it doesn’t need to be wolfsbane if it’s in the head, and that wouldn’t be something you can heal from!” He settles back down next to Peter, placing a hand on his chest. It’s possessive, but Peter doesn’t care. “One more thing, over the next few weeks or so, you may see me – this body – get a bit battered, but that’s okay. It’s supposed to look like that to make sure I appear human. But it’s just the shell and I’m not really hurt. Or if I am, I’ll heal, so don’t worry.”

The bond in his chest flares and his wolf, who’s spent so much time sleeping while he’s been buried under his family’s house, roars at the thought of his pack mate – his mate – being injured.

“Aww, wolfie,” Stiles croons, snuggling closer to Peter’s chest, petting the wolf, soothing the burns with his touch. “I’m so glad I picked you, you’re going to be the best of all of them. I knew you’d be my favorite.”


End file.
